Unwanted Concern
by Bellebelle3
Summary: Its the afterlife. Bakura is pissed off and does not wish to be bothered. However, Kisara, out of her gentle nature, always comes..... BakuraKisara oneshot. A bit disturbing.


Summary: Its the afterlife. Bakura is pissed off and does not wish to be bothered. However, Kisara , out of her gentle nature, always comes... BakuraKisara oneshot. A bit disturbing.

Whats this I hear you all yell? A Bakura/Kisara ficcie? Never!

Actually, I like this pairing as much as I like Seto/Kisara, but this is gaining up. Move over Seto, Kisara's got another man in her life.

Seto:...

BB3: H-how did he get here? Cat!

Disclaimer: Don't own Yugioh. Stop rubbing it in.

Unwanted Concern:

"Leave me alone."

Kisara's face was contorted with worry as she gently tugged at the Thief King's robes. They were tatty and torn, the bright red now spoiled with dirt. She bit her lip as she tried to dab at a trickle of blood that rolled down his cheek.

"How did you get like this?" she asked quietly, shaking her long silver bangs out of her eyes.

"SetoSama said the afterlife was eternal paradise...what are are you doing down here in the dark, when everyone is upstairs in the light?"

Bakura surveyed the young woman underneath his lashes. Seto had wasted no time in making her look acceptable in the eyes of the nobles. Her once rag like dress had been replaced by a glorious white robe endowed in silver, a lovely headdress hiding her silver hair, but a few strands had escaped, hanging in front of her large, blue eyes that glittered in the darkness. Her small light purified the darkness surrounding them. All the others had forsaken him, hurling him into the shadows as eternal punishment. But she, had watched him with wide eyed innocence, questioning their actions. It had been she, who had begged Seto to give him another chance. Surely nobody deserved this fate? It was she, that was the only one who held mercy in her heart.

He hated them. And in a way, he hated her. He hated her gentle touch, the way that she would try to help, trying to console his wounds that screamed out in agony. But the pain in his heart was greater.

If Kisara had sneered at him, stuck up her nose like the rest of those self righteous bastards, then maybe he could learn to forget her, that reassuring smile that came in dreams, or in nightmares. How could somebody be so kind and at the same time, so cruel?

Kisara could be dancing in the light above, laughing with Mana, smiling and bowing humbly whenever _SetoSama _passed. He would bless her presence with a smile, that special one that he only ever reserved for her, the so-called _light of his soul._ The very term fouled his insides. He hated her clothes. They reminded him of that arrogant, underhanded priest. He would always leave his print on her, as if she was his property, to mock him with. He loved Kisara in her simple clothes, her hair free and billowing around her face. In that state, maybe there was a chance. For her to be his.

No. She chose to come down here, where other evils crept up at her in the darkness, ripping at her garments, whispering hateful insults in the darkness. But none of them could ever touch her. Kisara would pass them as if they were the harmless reeds of the Nile, her face unwavering. There she would call out his name, before finding him staring into the never ending blackness. Kisara would press wine squeezed from the most wonderful vine yards in Upper Egypt in a gloden goblet into his hands. An apple, maybe even a freshly made cake. However, he would never respond until her Goddess like presence left him. Bakura would gulp down the wine, closing his eyes as he tasted the heavens, indulging in the cake and fruit like some deprived, starving animal.

He never responded.

Until now.

As Kisara raised the cloth to clean his wounds, he leaned forward and caught her hand in his. Frightened blue orbs were lost in hard, cold purple ones that scanned her face for any signs of disgust or revolt. But there was none.

"Why?" he hissed, referring to her question. "Because **they** disown me. There is no forgiveness in their hearts, little one. And why do you come down here, hm? Do you feel that you can oblige to my needs, help me in anyway? Or do you know what it is like, to be a empty shell, to feel the deep feeling of helplessness crush down on you, that you are truly alone?"

His harsh hands cupped her chin as he brought her mouth close to his, his eyes half lidded in lust.

"I know what pain is," he whispered smoothly, one excess hand removing her headdress so that long silver waves tumbled down her back. "I know...what the priest feel for you, little dragon. And it goes beyond anything you could ever imagine.."

Kisara's eyes widened as he kicked the empty wine goblet away, as he pushed the bread aside.

Bakura snaked an arm around her slender waist as he pulled her into a tight embrace, her face centimeters from his.

"This are all useless to me. The one thing I truly desire...is right in front of me."

Bakura's lips made harsh contact with Kisara's, his hands pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss,

running her fingers though her hair, tasting every inch of her, that was sweeter then the first vine bud the world had ever seen. It all seemed so surreal, that never ending moment, where he claimed her first kiss. The Priest did not deserve this. _Her. _He had let her die, seen it with his own eyes...before displaying her in front of Zork.

Him.

The monster.

The creature that deserved to be banished in hell, while the others danced about in the never ending spring of heaven.

Even Anubis had claimed that Bakura was too evil to even have the pleasure of having his soul destroyed, for that brings about a type of twisted peace. No, his fate was far worse. To be truly alone, left in the very shadows he had created, the very horror of his defeat being played out again and again in his head.

Smirking to himself, he released Kisara who fell back in front of him, her silver hair falling in front of her widening eyes. He excepted her to run, fleeing up to the place of light upstairs, vowing to never return to that dark, deranged tomb robber. But instead, she crawled forward, before resuming her work of washing his wounds.

Bakura laughed horsely, shaking his own white bangs out of his eyes.

"Unwanted concern," he muttered, leaning back against the wall, a smirk present on his lips.

In the shadows, Kisara gently smiled.

BB3: Consider this a plot bunny that was eating me up if I didn't just put it down. Bakura and Kisara are one of my fave pairings. Please R/R!

Cat: That was retarded...what the hell bought that on?

BB3: Tangerines, Cat. Tangerines. (Evil Laugh.)

Cat: ...


End file.
